


Angel 101

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Reader, Angst, Danger, Erotica, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Love, Reader Insert, Romance, Sex, Smut, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-16 10:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13634697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: The angels are dying out in huge numbers, and Castiel, searching for a way to save Jack from being used by them, and to also save them, is called by another angel to assist in what he thinks may be the solution.





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel felt the tug of a call on the tips of his wings, distracting him from whatever Dean had suggested they watch. He frowned at first, before standing up and excusing himself – neither Winchester seemed to notice. Responding to the call, allowing it to pull him through the fabric of space and time, he found himself in a room full of teaching equipment, laboratory items, and a large whiteboard, filled with writing.

Most of it was in Enochian.

“Castiel!” A dark-skinned man stepped out from the circle he’d stood in, smiling widely. “I wasn’t sure you’d come. I know how busy you are,” he gushed, looking a little overwhelmed.

“Oro,” Cas greeted, tilting his head to the side. “Why did you summon me?”

The other angel scurried forward, almost hunching in submission. It was natural – Castiel was a seraph, whereas Oro was a scholar, a scientist – few of their kind were ever educated properly, but a single garrison of Cherubim had taught themselves the ways of man, and kept up with their learning for thousands of years. Most of that garrison had been destroyed in the fall, and Castiel had known Oro was here but had never revealed his location, even when Hannah asked him.

“I have been researching and testing, and I think, Castiel, that I can save our brothers and sisters.”

Castiel frowned, sensing the other angel’s excitement. “Save our brothers and sisters?”

Oro fixed him with a look. “We’re almost extinct, Castiel,” he pointed out. “I know that the others have contacted you about the Nephilim. They wouldn’t listen to me when I told them the key wasn’t making some half-assed attempt at recreating the work of God.”

“And what is the key, brother?” Castiel asked, running a finger along one of the tables, finding it dusty. “They did not relate their plan for Jack to me, and I would not allow it in any case.”

The other angel smiled, nodding wildly, his eyes wide and full of eagerness. “Jack would only be able to create infestations, like his father –“ Cas bristled at that; he hated thinking of Lucifer as Jack’s father –“but with my work, with what I have done here,” Oro gestured to the board of Enochian, “with science and Enochian magic, I have figured out how to create real angels.”

“How?” Cas demanded, his interest suddenly peaked as his brother-in-arms practically vibrated with excitement.

“Humans, Castiel,” Oro explained, waving his arms about. “We can create human angels. There are downsides of course – they would only be the very lowest of ranks, and capable of the most minimal powers. But Ishim are still valuable, yes?” Castiel nodded, watching the dark-skinned angel closely. “We can take a human soul before it is taken to the ether, and use this method to make them into Ishim!”

Castiel stared at the angel, and the board behind him, unsure of how much faith to put into the seemingly brilliant solution. It was almost too good to be true – a way to save his kin but to also prevent them from using Jack as a tool. His eyes scanned over the spell work and science, unable to make head or tail of it – which wouldn’t be much good if anything happened to Oro. “You are sure?” he asked, tentatively.

Oro nodded again, putting so much energy into the movement that Cas thought he rather looked like that nodding dog that Sam had kept putting on the dashboard of the Impala to drive Dean mad. He just hoped his head didn’t come off like the dog’s inevitably did. “I am sure, brother. We can save our species. If we are lucky, these angels may even be able to reproduce, provided the chosen humans are not too irreparably damaged.”

“Reproduction has been ruled out?” Castiel asked, confused.

“Angels cannot reproduce with each other,” Oro frowned, sighing heavily. “We tried. The vessels we use… we can only procreate with humans, and that would only result in Nephilim, and they are abominations.”

“Not all of them,” Cas grumbled.

“Still… this is much more viable as an option,” the smaller angel grinned. “The only problem is… I haven’t had a chance to test it on a human that has only just died. I tried it on several corpses but if the soul is gone, there’s nothing to transform into grace.”

Castiel thought for a moment, his forehead wrinkling deeply. “Then we shall have to find someone who is due to die.”

*****

Honestly, you hadn’t expected your day to end like this. 

Everything had been running so smoothly - you’d gotten into the office early, and managed to catch up on your paperwork and your boss had given you enough praise to make your cheeks turn red. The cute guy at the coffee place had remembered your name this morning, and that had you on a high all the way through lunch. And then you’d landed the Johnson account, which was a massive step for your career.

Your good mood hadn’t even diminished when it started to rain heavily as you pulled out of the parking lot and started the three-mile trip home.

When the thunder and lightning had started, you brushed it off, enjoying the thick static in the air as you rolled the window of your battered old Caddy down. One particularly loud bolt made you jump, and the steering wheel lurched in your hand, the car completely out of control.

It was harder to keep a smile on your face when you pulled over on the quiet highway to find that you’d popped a tire, and your phone was almost dead. You were soaked through, and wondering if the good luck had been too much.

Apparently, it had.

It’s weird when you get struck by lightning. The world goes really quiet for a second, except for your heartbeat in your own ears, and you can literally feel the electricity boiling your blood. And when it’s finished coursing through you, scorching the ground at your feet, you just sort of… hang there, before your brain short circuits and you crumble to the floor.

What was weirder, was finding yourself suddenly standing over your own body, the raindrops around you frozen in mid-air.

“Y/N.” The voice that called to you was deep yet feminine, a rumble like honey, and you turned, finding yourself face to face with a tall, beautiful dark-skinned woman, who kinda made you think of Amazons. 

“Hi!” you squeaked, instantly embarrassed. “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Very astute,” the woman nodded, blinking slowly as her head inclined. 

“And everything was going so well,” you sighed, glancing back at your body, collapsed on the scorched earth. “At least it’ll make a good story for the local press.”

“You always see the good in everything, don’t you?” the woman asked with a tone of amusement in her voice. “I think you will be perfect.”

You frowned, looking back at her, seeing two men approach behind her. One was taller than the other, with a tan trenchcoat and a shirt that looked like it hadn’t seen an iron in years. The other man was stocky, grinning widely and you became apprehensive as they drew closer. “Perfect for what? Don’t I just go wherever now… like… heaven? Is heaven real?”

The woman nodded, and her companions stopped beside her. “I’m giving you a choice, Y/N. Your final resting place, or something new where you can do good in the world.” The shorter man tapped her upper arm, and the woman scowled, glancing back at him. “Consent is important, Oro. You asked for my help and you agreed we would do this my way.”

“Something new?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper and the woman turned back to you, smiling softly. “I don’t have to die?”

“You will die in your mortal life, Y/N,” she replied, holding her chin high. “But you could do so much more with a second chance, to start over, and become Ishim.” She paused, realizing that word meant nothing to you. “An angel,” she clarified.

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to respond to that, and you blinked a few times, looking between the hopeful short man, the stern woman and the guy in the trenchcoat who looked like he wasn’t sure he should be here. “A-an angel?”

“An angel,” trenchcoat guy affirmed.

“There’s only one thing you must consider. If you choose this path,” the woman explained, keeping her eyes on yours, “you will die as a human. Your old life is gone. You will be immortal, but not invulnerable. You can die and if you die as an angel, you go to the Empty.”

“What’s the empty?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

The woman seemed amused that that was your question. “The Empty is nothing. No form, no thought, just nothing.” Trenchcoat guy tensed a little, and you suddenly had the feeling that he’d been where there was nothing. “I know it is a big decision, honey.” The deep feminine voice dragged your attention back to the imposing female in front of you. Her face was kind and soft, and you sucked in a breath, thinking a second after that you didn’t actually need to.

A thousand questions speared the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t voice any of them. You didn’t know what awaited after death, and if you let them turn you into an Is-whatever, you’d never know. It was too much, too fast, and you shook your head.

“You’re sure?” the woman asked, no other reaction on her expression.

“Billie,” the smaller man said, reaching out to touch her arm. “We must hurry if we are to find another subject.”

“No!” you cried, making all three of them look at you with raised eyebrows. “No, I… it’s a lot, and I… but yes. I’ll do it. If… if it’s important enough for all this -” you gestured around yourself, laughing a little hysterically. “All this weirdness. Then it must be really, really important. I don’t know why you’ve picked me but… if it’s for the good of the world, then yes.”

Billie’s smile grew, and she looked back to Oro with a smug glint in her eyes. “I told you I’d picked the right one.”

You felt a little warmth at the way she sounded so confident in you, and you squared your shoulders, readying yourself for whatever was going to happen.

“So, how does this work?”


	2. Chapter 2

You could hear crickets.

The constant chirp as the insects rubbed their legs together mixed with a soft breeze and the distant sound of songbirds. Something tickled your bare leg, and you rolled over onto your back, coming to the realization that you were naked.

Sitting bolt upright, you opened your eyes, reflexively flinging your arm across them to shield from the bright sun. Your back felt stiff and heavy, and a glance down confirmed your lack of clothing.  From the looks of it, you were in a field, in the middle of nowhere, and it was around midday, judging by how high the sun was.

You climbed to your feet, looking around, seeing nothing but fields for miles. An old billboard stood by a dirt road, proudly advertising something in bold colors, but the message was unreadable for the huge charred hole in the middle. At the bottom, you could faintly make out a state badge.

Why the hell were you naked in a field, in the middle of Wisconsin?

“Y/N!” Whirling around added to your disorientation, and the weight against your back only seemed to increase, destabilizing you entirely. Strong arms caught you around your middle, you yelped as your bare feet caught on the soil and rock. 

The man’s face was full of concern when you managed to haul yourself upright and look at him. Bright blue eyes stared at you underneath dark brows, and you blinked, recognizing him in an instant. “You’re the angel.”

Confusion overtook concern and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“I’m in a field. In Wisconsin,” you replied before you realized that you were still entirely naked. “And I’m naked!” you shrieked, flinging yourself backward and wrapping your arms around your waist. Your surprise was further compounded as two huge white, feathered formations suddenly enclosed around you, and you screamed, toppling over onto the ground and rolling onto your back.

“Y/N!” the blue-eyed man shouted, leaning down, and you instinctively curled into a ball. “Y/N, it’s me, Castiel.” The name sounded familiar, but you were too freaked to think it through. Whatever the white things were, they weren’t leaving you alone, encircling your form and shutting him out. “You have to calm down, your body is reacting to your panic.”

You closed your eyes tightly, breathing fiercely through your nose, trying to get a hold of your fear and cascading anxiety. Slowly, the whiteness around you gave way to blue sky, and Castiel staring down at you with a mixture of curiosity and worry on his handsome features. You turned your head either side, trying to figure out what these things were, and why they appeared to be attached to you.

“It’s okay,” Castiel reassured you, smiling somewhat awkwardly. “We all go through a phase of not being able to conceal or control our wings.”

“Wings?” you squeaked, eyes going wide as you looked up at him. He nodded, outstretching one hand to offer you assistance from the ground. “I have…” You glanced over your shoulder as one wing stretched wide, extending to its full reach. “Shit, I have wings.”

“We did warn you this may happen,” Castiel said, shrugging off his trenchcoat. “The first time flying is very disconcerting. We’ve all ended up here once or twice.”

With a frown you looked at him, mouth hanging slightly agape as he offered you the coat. “I don’t think that will fit.”

His eyes darted upwards to the huge white appendages sprouting from your shoulder blades, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. “Hold your arms out,” he instructed, and you obeyed, unsure of what he was doing, but very sure that you looked like a total nutjob, standing naked in a field with your arms outstretched. The cool breeze made your nipples stiffen and the rush of embarrassment you felt was accompanied by a rush of… something else.

Castiel either didn’t notice or didn’t care, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Now, lower your arms slowly, and try to imagine pulling yourself into one place.” His soothing words were almost hypnotic and you closed your eyes, doing as he said. The weight off of your back seemed to shrink inwards, although it was still very much there. “There,” Castiel said, and you snapped open your eyes as he threw his coat around you. “Now at least we can conceal them.”

“They’re gone?” you asked, trying to see, but getting nothing more than a glimpse of tan. “I can still feel them.”

“They’re still there,” he replied, stepping back as your fingers worked quickly to cover your body with the coat. “And it will take more practice to completely hide them from human eyes. They’re new, and you’re adjusting,” he offered, a sweet little smile on his face that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “It took me a while to figure out how to make them incorporeal when I was new.”

“New?” you questioned, looking at him oddly. “You weren’t born?”

Castiel chuckled; the sound was not wholly unpleasant to hear. “We talked about this yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” He nodded, affirming your query. “But… last night, on the road -”

“On the road? You don’t remember anything about the last week?” You shook your head, feeling trepidation pool in your belly. Castiel frowned, clenching his jaw behind closed lips. “We should return. Oro may have some questions. It is possible the landing has caused some trauma, but he’s more knowledgeable about this experiment than I.”

“So it worked? I’m an angel now?”

Castiel held out a hand, taking yours, smiling brightly. “Yes, Y/N. You are an angel now.”

*****

As it turned out, the crash landing you’d inadvertently taken into a field in Wisconsin, was not your first accident with your new powers. When Castiel took you back to Oro, the smaller angel looked slightly frightened when you approached him. That was when you noticed the burned hole in the wall of his hidden home.

“Was that me?” you whispered, leaning into Castiel, who nodded, his blue twinkling with amusement.

“It’s not funny, brother,” Oro snapped, scowling at his brethren angel.

Castiel’s grin couldn’t be contained, and Oro turned away in disgust. “Isn’t this dangerous?” you asked, frowning at the huge singed hole. You’d burned clean through the brick, and it was a wonder how you weren’t injured.

“When I was new, barely decades-old -” you blinked at that piece of information, swallowing nervously, “- I managed to create an entire planet by experimenting with my powers. Gabriel told me that Saturn only has so many rings because Michael accidentally tripped up and caused a dimensional rift.” Castiel looked oddly proud when he said it, and you stared, unsure whether you were crazy, he was crazy, or something else.

This was all so new. And coupled with the memory loss, his supposedly funny story was a little too overwhelming. “Castiel -”

“You can call me Cas if you like,” he interrupted, smiling softly. “My friends call me Cas. And I’d like to think we’re friends, after all.”

Your fingers clasped his trenchcoat tighter around your middle, and you bit your bottom lip. “Cas,” you started, liking the feel of the nickname on your tongue. “My memory will come back, right? Maybe after some sleep or -”

“I’m not sure you even require sleep anymore,” he mused, glancing over where Oro was furiously scribbling in a notebook. “Oro, will Y/N need sleep? She hasn’t rested for the past few days…”

The smaller angel nodded, holding a hand up to silence him for a few seconds, before standing straight. “From what I understand, with the vitals I have taken from her, she’ll need minimal rest. Not like a regular human, anyway.”

“I thought I wasn’t a human,” you questioned, frowning at Oro, who didn’t even look at you - he was too busy staring at his notes.

“You are, at the very basic level. You’ll always have human-like DNA, but your soul is grace. Sort of,” the angel gave you a lopsided grin, but it didn’t make you feel any better. “You can still eat, drink - your body is reanimated, so you’ll need to provide it with sustenance and rest to remain strong. You can survive without, and certainly, you’re impervious to most harm, with enhanced healing. But that vessel - your body - is the only one you can ever have.”

You only felt confusion at his words and Castiel must have picked up on it. His hand clasped your elbow gently, and he smiled. “This body is not mine. Not originally. It was once a man called Jimmy Novak, and when I possessed him, he no longer had control of it. But, when I died, Jimmy went to Heaven, and God resurrected me in this vessel.”

“You mean, you don’t actually look like that?” you asked, unsure how to process the information.

Cas chuckled a little. “No. My real form is the size of the Chrysler building. Not that I have used that form for a long time. This is my body. I can have no other now.”

“This is good though,” Oro pointed out, getting visibly excited, gesturing wildly to the both of you. “If she still needs that sustenance, there is a chance that you may be able to procreate.”

You spluttered at that, mouth opening and closing as Castiel glared at his brother. “Procreate?” you squeaked. “With Cas? I mean, he’s hot and all -” Were your cheeks on fire? “- but we just met…”

“Maybe that’s a little too much right now, Oro,” Castiel scolded, his entire posture stiffening. “Y/N and I should see if we can figure out how to make her wings incorporeal, or this entire experiment will be a waste of time.” He turned to you, coaxing you out of the room, leaving Oro with red cheeks, clutching his clipboard tightly. “I’m sorry about Oro,” Cas muttered, releasing you as soon as you were in the hallway. “He is eager to save his brothers and sisters, and I think he gets a bit carried away.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” you replied, trying to avoid eye contact. “I never really thought about kids,” you added, sighing. “I suppose, it’s nice to think that one day I might have the option? Especially if I’m technically dead and all.”

“You’re very much alive to me, Y/N,” Castiel smiled, holding the door open for you. You stepped through, smiling shyly, and as you moved into the corridor, the lights went out. A high pitched screech filled the hallways, and somewhere, you heard Oro shouting. Castiel’s eyes went wide with panic, and before you could protest, he touched your forehead, whisking you away.


	3. Chapter 3

“What the hell was that?” you cried, as Castiel landed you with a thud in the middle of a deserted highway. Your entire body trembled as you tried to regain your bearings - it wasn’t really flying at all. It was more like the molecules of your being were scattered for a moment, before reassembling somewhere else.

“I don’t know,” Castiel replied, shaking his head. “But we must assume that returning to Oro is not a possibility right now.”

“Is he dead?” you asked, your breath halting in your throat. Castiel shrugged, looking around and nodding. For a second, you thought he was affirming your words. Then he grabbed your arm, tugging you towards the side of the road. After a token protest that went unanswered, you followed obediently, holding onto the trenchcoat that was the only thing covering your dignity.

Beyond the tree line, there was a fence and long dusty driveway. In the distance, the sun glinted off of a shiny black car, and you frowned, pulling your arm free from the seraphim’s grasp when a building came into view. It was imposing and old and looked like a power plant.

“Wait, Cas -”

He glanced at you, before pausing in the dirt, pointing to the building. “We will be safe here.”

“What is this place?”

A grimace tensed his jaw for a moment, and he looked down at the floor, almost like he was frustrated with your questions. “I have friends here. Family. Two brothers who are hunters.” You opened your mouth, ready to ask for more, but Castiel shook his head. “Y/N, I know this is all very overwhelming, but right now, I need you to trust me.”

Your mouth snapped shut and you sucked in a breath, slowly nodding at him. “I trust you,” you whispered, unsure if you were telling the truth. Castiel studied you for a few seconds, before gesturing to the building again.

Taking a few steps, you caught up with him, casting your eyes upwards as the building loomed over the both of you. It was scarier to look at the closer you got and by the time you reached the door, there had been no point catching up to Castiel. He turned as he reached for the handle, frowning at you. “It’s okay, Y/N. These men are my friends. They won’t hurt you.”

You swallowed around the lump of fright in your throat before nodding and following him as he opened the heavy steel door. It creaked and ground against the concrete underneath it, and revealed a dimly lit hallway with staircases disappearing into the darkness. When you stepped inside, and Castiel closed the door behind you, you could see a faint light coming from the bottom of the stairs.

Nothing could have prepared you for the military style of the building you’d entered. Beneath it’s shabby, broken exterior, there was life and more. The door at the bottom of the steps was open, and voices came from inside. As the room opened up to a balcony and more steps down, you saw the source of the speech; two large men, both dressed in flannel. One was drinking a beer, while the other read a book, pacing back and forth as he spoke about something called a “Nephilim”.

They looked up as Castiel emerged into their line of sight, and the man with the short hair tilted his head, as the other smiled genuinely.

“Cas,” he said, placing the book on the table without even looking at it. “We called, man.”

“I know. I was held up with something,” Castiel replied, reaching out to you, encouraging you forward. “This is Y/N.”

“Hey,” the long haired man said, his smile still on his face. The other looked suspicious as you stepped into his view, and you felt the lump in your throat swell. These men were dangerous - they reeked of violence and death.

“It’s okay,” Castiel whispered, his hand resting on the small of your back. You nodded, not mentioning your apprehension as he guided you down the steps to stand in the same space as the two men who made the hackles on the back of your neck rise. “Dean, Sam,” he greeted, pointing to them to identify them. “Y/N.”

Dean nodded gruffly, while Sam held his hand out. You eyed it hesitantly, before taking it and using your free hand to clasp the coat closed. Making introductions when naked was not your favorite thing. “So, this is your home?” you squeaked, snatching your hand back from Sam, who chuckled.

“Yeah, this is it,” he replied, scrubbing a hand through his thick locks.

Dean stood up, clearing his throat and placing his beer carefully on the table. He was on edge - a moron could tell - and the bubble of tension around him made a shiver run down your back. You hadn’t been around anyone else except for other angels since your death and resurrection, and this man was full of darkness that churned your stomach and stung the ends of your fingers. “Not to be rude, Cas,” he started, leaning back against the edge of the table and folding his arms over his broad chest. “But we weren’t expecting visitors.”

The implication was clear - Dean didn’t like opening up his home to people he didn’t know. Castiel nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. “I know. But this is important.”

“Something we can do?” Sam offered, making his brother bristle even more.

“Y/N is in danger,” Castiel explained, still keeping his hand on your back. “And she needs somewhere safe to stay. Until I can figure out what is after her…”

“After her?” Dean parroted, standing up straight.

The dark-haired man nodded, and you shuddered, wishing you were wearing something a little more substantial than a trenchcoat that smelt of burnt ozone and flowers. “She’s an angel,” Castiel started, and if you hadn’t have been waiting for their reaction, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight crease in their brows. “But she was human, only a few days ago. We - myself and Oro, another angel - were working on a way to save our species.”

“Angels are going extinct?” Dean asked, and Castiel nodded. A snort left the taller man’s lips, and Sam elbowed him. “What? We don’t need more of those winged dickbags,” Dean defended, and you shrank back, your fear of this stranger growing more intense.

“Dean, that’s enough,” Sam grunted, glaring at the other man, who rolled his eyes in response. “She wasn’t always an angel.”

“And that makes it better? She’s just another baby,” Dean retorted, pointing at you and you felt the fear in your belly churn into irritation. Maybe Dean didn’t like angels, but he was being downright rude at this point. “And she’s even wearing a trenchcoat.”

Castiel opened his mouth to reprimand his friend, but you beat him to it, the anger at his words bursting out of you. “Screw you, Paul Bunyan,” you spat, pulling away from Castiel’s touch. “I didn’t fucking ask for this, but I did it because it was the right thing.”

“Being a featherbrained toddler isn’t the right thing, sweetheart,” Dean drawled, not in the least bit bothered by your outburst.

“Yeah, well, being a jerk isn’t either!” You pressed in close to him, ignoring the bristling of your feathers underneath the coat. “And don’t call me sweetheart, sweetheart.” He blinked, looking at Sam for backup, but his brother was just smirking. “Castiel says this place is safe. I don’t feel like dying - again - so you’re gonna have to suck it up, buttercup.”

Sam released a loud laugh, as Dean’s eyes went wide. “Look, lady -”

“Dean, that’s enough,” Castiel snapped, holding up a hand. “Y/N is only just coming to grips with her powers. I agreed to this experiment with Oro because it was a way to prevent the angels from using Jack to try and create more angels. She is an Ishim - not like me, not like any angels really, but she’s our best hope to restore what angels are supposed to truly represent.” He fixed his blue eyes on the other man, seriousness keeping his face with a stern expression. “She’s our only hope.”

Dean swallowed visibly, before looking at you and then looking at Sam. “Does he even realize he’s quoting Star Wars?”

The angel groaned, his shoulders going slack like someone had released his strings, and you couldn’t help but giggle. Dean’s head jerked in your direction, and his face seemed to soften a little. 

“You’re welcome to stay here,” Sam said slowly, and you smiled at him, feeling like maybe these scary guys weren’t so bad after all. “We’ve got plenty of bedrooms, and… hey, do you want us to find you some clothes. Cas might want his coat back.”

“Cas?” you asked, half questioning the situation, and half questioning the nickname Sam and Dean had both used. He nodded, smiling back at you, and you allowed Sam to draw you away. Behind you, Dean picked up his beer, draining it quickly.

“I think you owe me a story,” he said, tipping the empty bottle in Castiel’s direction.

Cas nodded, watching you disappear out of sight. “Angels want her. They don’t approve of what we are doing.”

“Does she know?” Dean asked, and Castiel shook his head. “Shit, man. This is not gonna end well.”

“She’s safe here,” Cas insisted, taking a seat. “I will stay, for a short while. Work on the warding. We shouldn’t have been able to just walk in here.” The hunter had the graciousness to look sheepish at the remark, but he didn’t say anything. “Y/N is special, Dean. She is selfless and brave and she’s dealing with an insurmountable task, one that I could not fathom.”

“Powers huh?”

Castiel nodded. “And more. I know you don’t like angels, as a rule -”

“I’ve met a few okayish ones,” Dean teased, relaxing back into his seat.

“That being said,” Cas continued, “we both know, they are relentless. And Y/N… if she cannot learn to control her powers, to prove that what we are doing is the key to saving Heaven…” He sighed, looking down at his hands. “Then I don’t know what her fate is.”


	4. Chapter 4

You kept your head down as you followed Sam through the corridors of the huge building, your eyes following the tiles under your feet. When Sam cleared his throat, you looked up, taking in his gentle smile and the crinkles around his eyes. “These rooms are all empty if you wanna pick one? I’ll go grab some clothes for you.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, looking at the row of doors with ornate golden numbers on their surfaces. Below that, there was an odd mark, like a star all stretched out. Sam disappeared into another room, while you surveyed the doors, unsure which one to choose.

Picking the first door on a whim, you opened it, revealing a bare room with only a few cupboards and a bed in the middle. You looked around, finding the light switch and turning it on, flinching instinctively as your eyes adjusted to the light.

“This one, huh?” Sam asked, making you jump and turn, clinging to the trenchcoat as it nearly slipped. Sam’s cheeks went red, and he held out a pile of clothes. Most of it was plaid, with a few pairs of sweats thrown in. “Sorry, I guess it’s all a bit lumberjack right?” You smiled at that, taking the pile with one hand. “Once you’re settled, just give me your sizes and a rough idea of what you like, and I’ll go to the store. I’m guessing you’re gonna be here for a few days.”

“Yeah,” you mused, looking down at the clothes. “You must think I’m crazy huh? Choosing to be like this?”

Sam shrugged, rolling his shoulders with the movement. “No. I’ve seen crazier. You seem like a good person, Y/N.”

“I think I was,” you murmured, turning around and moving to place the clothes on the bed. “When they… when I died, I guess, it felt like the right thing to do. For the greater good. Castiel told me when I first woke up before I ended up in that field… he told me that I was the chance to make angels what they used to be.”

There was a sort of wistful look in Sam’s eyes when you turned back around. “I hope he’s right,” he replied, although the hint of doubt in his voice was a little disconcerting. “Why don’t you get changed, and I’ll give you the grand tour,” he suggested, changing the subject.

You smiled, nodding, waiting for him to leave the room and close the door before you dared remove the coat.

A few moments later, you emerged, swamped in a baggy pair of sweats that you’d had to tie tightly around your waist, and roll up at the bottom, and a plaid shirt that may as well have been a tent. But it was better than the trench coat, covering the wings adequately so they only poked out of the bottom of your shirt. You gave Sam a grateful smile as you closed the door to the room with Castiel’s coat draped over one arm. Sam pointed at it.

“I suppose we should give him that back,” he chuckled. “He looks weird without it.”

*****

You’d been in the bunker for two days. Sam, true to his word, had obtained a range of clothing for you, mostly in your size, and surprisingly tasteful. He’d been nothing but kind and helpful, but there was that undercurrent of “kid gloves” that showed you his distrust of you on an intrinsic level. Dean, on the other hand, was openly cautious and vocally opposed to your existence.

Castiel had told you he’d come around, but you’d taken to avoiding the man as much as you could. You still had to learn to control your powers, and the first step was hiding your wings.

“They’re still growing,” he warned you, the first time you attempted to sheath them in a non-corporeal form. “And they’re going to be sensitive for a little while.” He wasn’t wrong - when he’d brushed your wings for the first time, untangling one bent and mangled feather, you’d felt something curl and stretch in your belly, an unusually strong arousal sweeping through you.

But you’d kept quiet, allowing him to assist you in any way he deemed necessary, although you craved the touch of his fingers against your new appendages more with every moment.

Finally, after nearly thirty hours, you’d managed to conceal your wings from sight, the weight lifting off your shoulders. According to Cas, they would always be incorporeal, only visible to humans with the power of angelic grace.

You’d gradually remembered the missing first few days, quickly regaining the ground over your celestial powers, although there were minor hiccups. One of the cars in the garage had fallen victim to a burst of energy when you’d been practicing against Cas, and you’d accidentally teleported to the top of Mount Everest when daydreaming had caught you off guard.

You still shivered at the memory.

The Winchesters left for a “case” on the third day. During your stay, you’d shared with Sam your previous life’s details - your job, your family and few friends. You didn’t find yourself really missing them; as far as they were concerned you were at peace, and you were. Sort of.

More so when Castiel was around.

Sam had, in turn, told you his story. His lost girlfriend, his former attempt at normality, and his acceptance of the world in which he now lived. It made you feel sad, that such a kind man had seen so much darkness, but in the short time you’d known them, you’d seen how the bad in their lives had been tempered by the good they did. Dean still terrified you, but now you understood a little more of what you felt around him.

They didn’t trust you right now, but Sam, at least, was something of a friend. More of a friend than you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure whether to be happy or sad about that. You’d never even guessed at what you were walking into when you said “yes” to becoming an angel; your wildest dreams couldn’t conjure up this chaos and danger.

Yet, you felt… right.

Whether it was your own ability to adjust to situations or the fact that Castiel was there every step of the way, you weren’t sure. But his guidance and trust meant everything to you, and it hurt you to know he would eventually leave.

“Do you know how to fight?” Castiel asked, dragging you from your daydreams as you sat at the library table, where you were supposed to be reading a book on angelic lore. Most of it was historical anecdotes and bits that you thought probably should have been in the Bible, but you’d grown bored of it within thirty minutes.

“No. I mean, I fought a bully named Carly in third grade. But I’m assuming hair pulling and biting aren’t warrior-like qualities?” you quipped, provoking a smile from him. You loved seeing him smile; the way his eyes crinkled and his cheeks went red. It was unbearably cute for a man who was over a millennia old.

“Although in some circumstances, they could be required,” he started, standing up and gesturing to the war room, “I would recommend some actual sparring.” Curiously, you tilted your head and followed as he led the way through the war room and past the kitchen. Along from there, there was a wide open space, laid out with gym mats and a few weights benches. There was other equipment there that you didn’t recognize, but Cas bypassed them all as he removed his coat, jacket, and tie, laying them neatly on one of the benches. He turned to you, rolling his sleeves up. “Are you comfortable to spar in that attire?”

You looked down - you’d opted for jeans and a sweatshirt most days, and they were comfortable enough. With a nod, you eyed him apprehensively. Fisticuffs were not your strength - Carly had won that fight in third grade. “You can fight then?” you asked, raising your hands to mimic his posture.

He nodded once, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I have the knowledge. This form took a little while to get used to, but you are lucky that you know your own body inside and out. It will be easier for you to adjust.” He came closer, holding his hands in fists. “Now, don’t let me hit you.”

The first punch hurt like a bitch for a flash of a second, and you yelped, clutching your nose as you stumbled backward. “Ow!”

“I did say -”

“Not the point,” you groaned, wiping away the blood, feeling the warmth as your new abilities worked to heal the minor wound. “Didn’t your dad ever tell you not to hit a girl?”

Castiel paused as if he was actually thinking about it. “Not that I can recall. But gender isn’t exactly important in a fight.”

You straightened, glaring at him. “Could we at least start a little slower?”

It was a few hours before you managed to knock him on his ass. And you could have sworn that he looked proud as he stared up at you from the blue gym mats. By that time, you were tired and hungry and done with sparring.

“You look like you could use some rest,” Castiel muttered, taking your offered hand to get up off of the floor. You’d removed your sweater a few rounds earlier, and right now, you were only in a sports bra, your chest heaving with exertion. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“And maybe a shower,” you muttered, remembering trying to shower on that first day with your wings smooshed against the cubicle wall. That had been uncomfortable.

“You are showing remarkable progress,” Cas offered, smiling at you, his hand landing on your shoulder in an affirming gesture. “We’ll try again tomorrow.” He turned away to collect his discarded clothing, and you tensed, missing the touch of his fingers on your skin.

“Cas -” you started, quickly changing your mind and cutting yourself off. He looked back at you, expectantly, and you smiled awkwardly. “Never mind.”


	5. Chapter 5

The shower was exactly what you needed, and when you emerged, Castiel was nowhere to be seen. With a shrug, you headed to your room, dropping the towel as soon as the door was closed. You stretched out, allowing your wings to stretch with you, and it felt damn good in the air-conditioned room.

“Y/N?”

Cas’ voice made you spin, just as he opened the door and copped his second eyeful of your nude body. You shrieked loudly, instinct kicking in, and you felt yourself being torn through the ether, molecules quickly reassembling in a dark enclosed space. Almost immediately, you screamed, thrashing out and meeting wood, that splintered, cracked and disintegrated under your touch.

You’d managed to teleport yourself into your closet. Across the room, Castiel stared with wide eyes and one hand on the doorknob.

“What the hell, Cas!” you cried out, snatching at the nearest fabric, which happened to be a spare sheet for the bed. It was apt enough to cover you for now, and you scowled as you wrapped it around your body like a toga. “Don’t you knock?”

“I’m sorry - I was… I came in…” He paused, seeming a little out of breath and embarrassed, like he’d been caught naked and not the other way around. His eyes were fixed on you, and despite the sheet covering your modesty, you felt just as bare to him as before. “You’re beautiful,” Castiel exclaimed. “That night, I thought you were and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but -”

Your expression softened as hope blossomed in your chest, the feeling peculiar and not at all unpleasant. “It’s okay, Cas, I’m not mad, just a little surprised.”

“I was coming to ask if you wanted to go outside. I’m aware you have been inside the bunker for several days, and I thought you might like some fresh air?” he murmured, and you smiled, nodding.

“I’d like that,” you replied, looking down. “Let me put some clothes on, and I’ll come out.” Castiel nodded, smiling, the red blush still staining his cheeks as he backed out of the room, leaving you alone. All of the air in your lungs whooshed out, and you remained on the spot for a second, contemplating what had just happened. Cas had said he thought you were beautiful. No one had ever said anything like that to you. Not that you could recall, and you didn’t just forget someone saying you were beautiful.

Butterflies erupted in your belly, and you rushed to find some clothes to get outside. The other angel hadn’t been wrong about your need to get some air. The bunker was safe, but with no windows and everything being so artificial, it was stifling. You needed to see the sky.

Castiel was hovering nervously in the corridor, and he smiled bashfully when you emerged dressed in a thick sweater and fresh yoga pants. He offered his hand out to you, and you took it, trying to suppress the thrill that ran down your spine at his touch. With a twitch of his head, the bunker corridor dissipated, and you were perched on the roof of the immense building, staring out over treetops with stars twinkling above.

Awe knocked you on your ass, and you sank down, hugging your knees as you looked at the scenery. Everything was eerily lit by the moon, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen a landscape like it before.

“This is amazing,” you whispered, and Castiel smiled a little, taking a spot next to you. The bunker roof was slightly pitched, the old thick lead tiles not the most comfortable of seats, but good enough for the view. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” Cas muttered, unexpectedly leaning over to take your hand. “I know it isn’t easy, what you’re doing.” You huffed in amusement, casting a sly glance his way. He wasn’t even looking at the sky - his eyes were fixed on you. “What were you going to say earlier? In the training room.”

You sucked in a breath, focusing on the stars. “I never really had anyone, you know?” you started, picking out one shining light and watching it intently. “I mean, I had my mom, my dad, my sister who lived in Michigan. I had friends at work and friends who I went to the bar with, but I never had anything that felt close to a purpose. It was like a routine, you know?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’ve never experienced it. But it doesn’t sound too bad,” he admitted.

A dry laugh left your lips. “Life without passion is… boring. Mundane. I went on dates and pretended like those cheap posies were pretty and put out like a good girl, but nothing set me on fire.”

“A good girl?” Cas asked, raising an eyebrow and you finally dragged your eyes to him, fixing him with a dark, lust-filled look.

“A good girl,” you affirmed, smirking. “You ever felt that fire, Cas?”

He seemed to contemplate the question. “I’ve not had that much experience…” he trailed off, looking a little embarrassed.

“Seriously?” You didn’t mean to sound so shocked at that, and the redness in his cheeks grew. “You’re like, really hot, Cas.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “I remember my vessel’s memories of sex,” he explained. “And I have had encounters in my time as a human, and as an angel. But no. I don’t believe I’ve felt the “fire” you’re referring to.” He locked eyes with you, and there was something new in his blue gaze. His next words were the catalyst for the burning in your core. “I think I’d like to, though.”

Whatever it was that came over you, you weren’t sure, but it pushed you into him, your fingers curling in the lapels of his jacket, and your lips pressing against his, full and soft. Castiel didn’t seem surprised, responding in kind with eagerness, his hand slipping around to pull you flush against him.

And all too soon, it was over. His attention was taken from you as a high pitched sound echoed in your ears. “What is that?” you asked.

“Angel radio. I’m being summoned,” Cas grunted, sounding incredibly disappointed. “They have Oro.” His gaze went back to you. “I have to go, Y/N. Will you be okay?”

“I don’t think I have a choice,” you replied, your good mood turning sour. “You’ll come back right?”

Castiel smiled, cupping your cheek and leaning in to kiss you again. “Nothing will stop me.”

*****

Dean and Sam returned before Castiel did.

For four days, you were completely alone in the bunker, running out of things to do. You’d practiced with the gym equipment, and fired a gun once - you did not enjoy that - and spent hours teleporting from one end of the room to the other, to try and get a grip on your powers.

By day three, you were binge-watching Game Of Thrones in an effort to not die of boredom.

When the bunker door opened, and a weary-looking pair of brothers trudged through it, you felt relief that someone was here, someone to talk to.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, frowning as he reached the bottom of the steps. You’d paused the video on the laptop, leaving Khal Drogo in a somewhat compromising position. “Where’s Cas?”

You shrugged, sitting up straight, noticing the injuries on him and Dean. The latter was sporting a long slice down his face, and he looked none too pleased about it. Quickly, you got to your feet, approaching too fast, and Dean went on the defensive. “Whoa, it’s okay, just… I can heal that,” you pointed, and he relaxed.

TIredness went a long way in making Dean a little more acquiescent. He waited patiently as you lifted your hand and pressed two fingers to his temple, focusing like Castiel had taught you to. It was harder than you thought, trying to visualize the injury mending, but finally, the threads of flesh started to knit together. “Castiel was called away. Angel radio or something. It sounded like a high pitched buzz to me.”

“Sounds like that to us,” Sam nodded, dropping his bag, watching as you healed his brother. The tan returned to Dean’s face as his wounds knitted and he stood straight, feeling a little less exhausted than he had.

“Thanks,” he grunted, dropping himself into a seat at the map table. “When did he leave?”

You blinked, before realizing he meant Cas, and you moved to Sam, performing the same healing process on him. “A couple of days ago. I think the angels had Oro, and he went to find out what was going on.” You smiled as you finished with Sam’s minor injuries, and he grinned back gratefully. “At least I’m good at this one thing. I teleported myself into a closet the other day.”

“You’re getting good,” Sam assured you, taking a seat next to his brother.

“You’re still learning, kiddo,” Dean agreed. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.” It was probably the nicest thing he’d ever said to you, and you beamed at him. “He’ll come back. Cas is a hard man to kill.”

You hadn’t even thought of that. Sure, you’d considered that he might be in danger, but dead? “I didn’t… he might be in trouble. I haven’t even heard from him.”

Sam frowned, elbowing Dean, who shrugged innocently. “I’m sure he’s fine,” Sam replied, smiling at you, but your concern only grew into full-blown anxiety. “I’ll call him if that makes you feel better?”

“Yeah, it would,” you whispered, sinking back into your seat. “Sorry, I didn’t even think - I don’t even have a phone.” Dean sat up, clasping his hands together on the table.

“I’ll get you a burner for now,” he said, slowly. Sam was pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, dialing Castiel’s number by memory. “You know he’s kinda like a cockroach, right? Nothing puts him down.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about it, Dean,” you replied coolly. “He’s… he’s pretty much all I have.”

“Hey, you got us,” he insisted, trying to look cheerful. “Look, I know we haven’t been the best of friends, but Sam and I talked about it and you’re a good person. Even we can see that. You’re doing what you think is right, and even if its fucked up, you’re not alone. Hell, me an' Sam got a long history of doing things for what we think is the right reason, and having it blow up in our faces.”

You fixed him with a dour expression, trying to convey that his words of comfort were not so comforting. Before you could voice your disagreement, however, Sam spoke, indicating that his call had connected. “Castiel? Yeah, man, where are you? We just got back -” He went quiet, and worry curled in your belly like old milk. “We got it. Just take care, alright?” The call ended, and you frowned, unhappy with the short and sweet conversation. Sam looked up, giving you a hesitant smile. “Good news, Cas is alive and he’s currently with Billie?” Sam glanced at Dean, who shrugged. “Bad news - Oro was ganked by the angels. They’re not happy with -”

Dean cleared his throat, sharply. “What Sam means, is that -”

“You know, the three of you are really shit at lying, and you’re louder than you think when you talk,” you interrupted, folding your arms over your chest. Both Winchesters looked sheepish and sank backward in their chairs. “I know the angels want me dead. I know they aren’t happy with whatever it is Oro did, and obviously, he’s now dead because of it. Why do you think I never protested being locked in this Alfred Hitchcock nightmare? I knew I was safer in here, even if I might die of boredom.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed, somewhat bitterly. “Because this is the most excitement I’ve had in years? Because my life finally means something? I could save a species. I could make them what I always grew up thinking they were. Guardians, helpers, protectors.” You shook your head, standing up. “Instead, I find books where angels are complete douchebags, and personal accounts of where they’re plain evil.”

Dean sighed heavily. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted.

“And,” you added, avoiding their gazes, “I didn’t want to worry the guy I care about with the fact that I know I’ve got a price on my head.”

Sam blinked, looking at his brother, who shrugged. “The guy you care about?”

With a nod, you dropped your head into your hands. “Is it stupid? I mean, we’re forced together, in this weird experiment, and I shouldn’t like him at all. The guy is stiffer than a starched shirt, but god, there’s these little cracks where he’s so human, and I just wanna…” You blushed, going quiet before you could state that you wanted nothing more than to corrupt him.

“I get ya,” Dean smirked, knowingly. “Gotta say, Cas ain’t as stiff as you think, lady.”

“Oh?” you queried, looking up at him. “Something I should know?”

“I know he’s a good man,” Sam interjected, glaring at Dean, who was still smirking in a filthy manner. “And you could do a whole bunch worse.” His head twitched in Dean’s direction, and the elder brother rolled his eyes. “Y/N, if you like him, then tell him.”

“I have,” you replied, indignantly. “I’m not a shy, wilting flower. I told him, we kissed and he flitted off with the call of angel radio.” Both brothers looked at each other, surprise on their faces. “And as much as I appreciate the advice, I just wanted to check that this wasn’t Stockholm Syndrome or something.”

Dean chuckled, and Sam smiled. “Just wait until he gets back,” he advised. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”


	6. Chapter 6

Not hearing from Cas was grating on you more than you’d realized when another day had passed and you were constantly thinking about him. Dean had gotten hold of a phone for you, programmed with his, Sam’s and Castiel’s numbers, and you’d texted the angel once to let him know you were okay.

No answer came.

Dean and Sam didn’t seem particularly concerned - they were too focused on finding the missing Nephilim and their mother, the events of which they managed to fill you in on. You’d offered help, but it became clear after a few hours of researching that you were in over your head, so instead, you’d turned to something a little more familiar to keep you distracted.

You’d missed cooking.

And it seemed that the Winchesters were in need of a decent home cooked meal, judging by the way they wolfed down your offerings, returning with clean plates and gestures of thanks. More than anything, this made you feel a smidge better being in this strange place. Dean and Sam were much more relaxed around you now, more open and welcoming than they had been at first.

It was 3 am, and you’d been an angel for nearly two weeks when an unfamiliar feeling swam in your belly - not unlike the feeling of nauseousness you got when Mrs. Reading had made you go on stage for a presentation in ninth grade. There was a tugging sensation, and it pulled you from where you’d been immersed in a book on vampire lore, prompting you to wander through the halls of the bunker.

Dean was awake in the library, and he seemed unsurprised to see you awake, giving you an awkward little smile as you approached. “What’s up?” he asked, and you shrugged, opening your mouth to reply that nothing was “up”, but a loud banging on the door interrupted you. Both of you looked up, and Dean instantly pulled a gun from out of nowhere, motioning for you to get back.

His steps were silent as he climbed the stairs to the door separating the bunker from its entrance, and you watched warily, hanging back in the shadows, seeing him disappear through the door. You waited, expecting to hear the sounds of a fight, but nothing came.

He re-emerged a few seconds later, with a smaller figure, and another that made relief flood your system. Before you could stop it, your instincts had your body pulling itself apart, reassembling on the balcony, right in front of Castiel.

“Y/N,” he breathed, your relief mirrored in his eyes and you flung your arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly and inhaling his scent. He grunted at the impact, and it was then that you realized he was injured.

“Cas?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, giving you a little half smile, before gesturing to the steps, not letting go of you where his fingers held your arm. “Let’s get inside, yeah?” You nodded, frowning, your eyes darting to the newcomer you’d never seen before. “This is Jack,” Castiel answered, knowing your question before you spoke it. You knew who Jack was - he’d told you everything about him. And apparently, he’d managed to find the boy while he’d been away.

Nothing further was said until the four of you were downstairs in the library, and Dean quickly went to rouse Sam from sleep. The younger Winchester had tousled hair and a grumpy expression as he shuffled in before he became visibly happy to see Jack. “We were worried,” Sam admitted, as he checked the boy over, ignoring his protests.

“I was fine. Just… displaced,” Jack replied. “I was trying to find a way to that other world, to save your mom.”

Castiel slumped into a chair, and you finally saw the extent of his injuries in the lamplight. His lip was busted, and blood stained the left side of his shirt. There was a long gash in his pants, revealing more bloodied skin underneath, and almost instantly, you started to fuss over him. “What happened?” Dean asked, fixing his gaze on Cas.

“I went to meet with the angels,” Castiel replied, grimacing as you pushed his coat off of his shoulders. “They killed Oro, and were going to kill me.” Your face paled, and he smiled at you, although it didn’t make you feel any better. “Billie was there.”

“I thought she was okay with this?” Sam asked, confusion on his face as he sat down.

“She is,” Cas affirmed. “She’s the one who put a stop to it. Tried to reason with them, while they had an angel blade to my throat. They didn’t listen.”

“Billie is Death now, right?” Dean questioned, and Castiel nodded. “So why won’t the angels listen to her?”

“Because angels are very stupid when not following some chain of command,” Cas admitted, sighing, not making any move to stop you inspecting his wounds. As your fingers touched on the wound to his side, he hissed, then groaned loudly. “And these angels are intent that Jack can save them.”

“But I can’t,” Jack added, leaning in with his arms on the table. “They think I can, but Billie already told them I can’t do anything.” You glanced over at the young man, giving him a sad look, and he returned the expression with a sorrow-filled smile. “You’re their only hope, Y/N, and they want you dead.”

Cas tensed beside you, and you looked back to him, squeezing his arm gently. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Cas,” you whispered. “I’m safe here.”

“They know you’re here,” he replied, fear clouding his gaze. “And the warding won’t hold forever. Billie… she said the future of angels was still uncertain. But she believes that you are the key, and the angels won’t accept it.” His hand surrounded yours, holding it as you tried to tend to his wounds. “I will heal. We must get you somewhere safe.”

“There isn’t anywhere safer than here,” Dean pointed out, shaking his head. “Cas, we can help -”

“You have other concerns,” the angel replied. “Your mother, for one.” Dean didn’t reply, giving his brother a look. It was clear he still didn’t believe his mother was alive, but Sam grimaced at the expression on his face. “Y/N is my responsibility. I will take her and Jack somewhere safe.”

You frowned, tugging your hand free. “I’m staying here, Cas. I don’t think I’ll feel safe anywhere else. We’ll increase the warding.”

His eyes were filled with desperation as he looked up at you, wincing with the effort of his wounds. “Y/N, we don’t know -”

“We don’t know that we’re not safe here, Cas. Have angels ever gotten in here without you guys knowing?” you asked, looking over at Sam and Dean, who shook their heads. “Then we stay. Until I’ve got a handle on my powers and I can defend myself, or -”

“Or we convince the angels to our way of thinking,” Jack provided, smiling brightly, the optimism flowing off of him. If this kid was the son of Lucifer, then he must have taken after his mother, because he was goddamn adorable.

Castiel took your hand again, standing up. “May I speak to you in private?” he asked, and you nodded, looking at him with concern as he led you from the library to your bedroom. His limp was pronounced, and he grimaced with every step he took, prompting you to shut the door to your room and pushed him backward. “Y/N,” he started.

“You’re lying to me. You’re not healing,” you ground out, tugging at his coat. “Take these off.”

“Y/N,” he protested again, but you scowled and pulled harder, making him cry out in pain. Seeing that you meant business, he started to remove his clothes, letting them fall to the floor. When he was down to only his pants and shoes, you gasped, seeing the mass of bruises and cuts on his torso, mixed in with old scars. “I am healing, I assure you,” Cas muttered, averting his eyes from yours. “It’s just a slow process.”

You could see it now - the wounds slowly knitting together, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy you. Placing one hand on his taut belly, you focused, like you had with Sam and Dean, pulling all of the energy you had into him. The healing sped up a fraction, but not enough.

“It is harder to heal an angel,” Castiel informed you, covering your hand with his. His shoulder was at an awkward angle and you reached up with your other hand.

“Is your shoulder hurt?” you asked, and he shook his head lightly.

“My wing…” he whispered, and you tilted your head to the side.

“Show me,” you requested.

All of the air felt like it was sucked out of the room for a split second, and Castiel closed his eyes as he relinquished control over his extra appendages. His wingspan was significantly larger than yours, and his feathers glittered with an ethereal quality that made you draw a sharp breath. At the bottom of his left wing, the white plumes were charred, some of them bloodied. “What did they do?” you breathed, reaching out.

His answer was cut off when your fingers brushed his wing, and his entire body shuddered. You could feel his heartbeat under your hand, fluttering faster than a hummingbird. You pressed closer, trailing your fingers up through the feathers, watching bliss cross his face. “That is incredibly pleasant,” he moaned, his eyes snapping open.

“Is it okay?” you asked, not stopping, and he nodded. “Will these heal?”

“They will heal,” he exhaled, and you whimpered under your breath as you felt him hard against your belly. “Y/N, you should really stop -”

“Do you want me to?”

It was more of a loaded question than you’d intended and Cas’ eyes fixed on yours with such intensity, you felt like you might shatter. “No,” he growled, his voice a few octaves lower and powerful enough to make your spine crawl with need. Before you could react, his lips were crashing into yours, hungry and demanding. You responded, clutching at him with one hand buried in the soft down of his wing.

Without thinking, your own control lapsed, and your wings shredded the thin tank top you’d been wearing. Your bra clung to your chest by a few threads, and when Cas reached around, dragging his fingers through your wings like you had done with his, you cried out.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Cas muttered, his mouth pressing against your throat. “Y/N -”

“Not gonna lose me,” you assured him, placing your hands on his head, threading through his short, dark locks. “Cas, I’m right here…” Punctuating your remark with a harsh kiss, you whimpered into his mouth when he reached down, hoisting you upwards so your legs were wrapped around his waist. His hard cock ground against your pussy through your sweats, and you found yourself desperate for more.

He carried you to the bed, dropping you slowly onto the mattress, before dragging your pants down your legs, taking your underwear with them. Shoes and socks thumped to the floor in his need to have you bare, and when Castiel was done, he stood straight, fixing a starved look on your naked body, your wings splayed out across the queen bed.

“They’ve grown,” he commented, unbuckling his belt. You nodded, gasping when he tore the rest of his clothing off, before climbing onto the bed, nudging your legs apart with his own. “You are so beautiful.”

You felt your cheeks redden and your wings furled inwards. As Cas covered your body with his own, you couldn’t think that he looked more sin than an angel, with his long white wings spread out behind him. When he hands found the soft feathers of your own wings, you cried out at his touch, spreading your thighs further to allow him access.

Foreplay became an afterthought as Cas sat on his haunches, fisting his cock to rub the tip against your slit. You were already soaked and needy, and you reached out to him, wanting him closer. He groaned, slipping into you an inch, enough to make you twitch and whine, but then he stopped, holding back.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, worry in his eyes. You smiled, reaching up with both your hands and your wings, pulling him flush against you. His hips sank down, and Cas buried himself inside your body, both of you crying out with the feeling of completion.

“You could never hurt me,” you whispered in return, arching against him when he rolled his hips.

You’d never felt like this before. Sex had always been sex - it wasn’t the mind-blowing experience you read about in those trashy books your Aunt had sent you every so often. It wasn’t the most boring thing in the world, but for you, it had always been “insert tab A into tab B; repeat until done”. You were happier with a bag of chips and the latest season of Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix.

But this… the touch of him, the way he moved against you, the way he filled you like you thought you might die from bliss…

This was better than anything you’d had or imagined.

Cas’ mouth was against your neck, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. His teeth grazed against you in a half-kiss, half-bite, and you moaned loudly, lifting your legs. The feathers of his wings tickled your leg, and you reached around to trace the outline of the limbs, feeling his cock twitch just as his breath caught in his throat.

“You really like that, huh?” you teased, and Cas practically snarled to affirm that he enjoyed it a whole lot. “It feels like that when you touch me.”

He looked down at you, his gaze darkening with every touch of your fingers. “No one has ever touched my wings,” he said, seriousness flooding his tone. “You are the first.”

There was so much you wanted to say, but Cas kissed every word away, holding you close as he rocked against you. His movement contained every ounce of urgency he felt for you, but he remained slow in his actions, teasing out all the friction and pleasure from your body that he could. You weren’t sure when the build of your climax began and ended, but when you broke away from his lips to cry out, he only urged you on.

Time seemed endless as both of you clung to each other, foreheads touching if your lips weren’t, and you kept moving your fingers through his wings, trying to portray your feelings through touch. Cas did the same, whispering words you didn’t know or couldn’t understand, and you replied with little noises that he kept for his own.

When he came, you followed, and for a long while, you just laid there, wrapped in each other, wings cocooned around your bodies like your own private haven from the world. The warmth of his embrace, and the relief that his wounds were almost fully healed allowed you to relax into a deep slumber.

You didn’t even notice when he withdrew from you, shifting your body so you were laying on his chest, one hand smoothing your sex-messed hair down your bare back.

Castiel had seen heaven. But with you, he actually felt it.


	7. Chapter 7

You woke up to the feel of a warm body under your cheek, and slowly, you raised your head, looking up to see Cas with his eyes closed. He wasn’t asleep - you knew that much by the slight twitch when you moved. His wings were gone, and you noticed immediately that yours were still sprawled across the bed like a giant feathery blanket.

It took a moment, but you sheathed them from view, relaxing back down onto the bed, curling into the crook of Castiel’s shoulder. You let your eyes close for a few seconds until he shifted and turned to face you. He didn’t speak, instead cupping your chin between the knuckle of his thumb and his finger, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Morning,” you whispered when he pulled away, feeling the color rise in your cheeks.

“Good morning,” he returned, smiling. “You were asleep for a while.”

“Did you…”

He shook his head. “I don’t sleep. Although, sometimes I miss it. When I was human, briefly, I quite enjoyed dreams.”

You smiled up at him, running one finger down his chest. “I think I’m dreaming right now.” Cas chuckled, kissing you again, before his hand trailed down the side of your body, stopping at your hip to pull you closer. He was hard, insistent against your belly, and you shivered with anticipation. “Cas -”

“Yes?” He held you still, waiting for you to speak.

“What is this?” you asked, unsure what you were even referring to. The sex, the touches, the kisses, the heat that had simmered between you since he’d found you in the field… or was it the more intimate connection? The way he’d opened up to you, shown you and given you everything?

“I don’t know,” Castiel replied, looking as hopelessly lost in you as you were in him. “But I know it isn’t wrong. Doesn’t it feel right to you?” You nodded - this felt more right than anything you’d ever done. For the first time in your life, you felt what completion might be like. “Billie was right about you,” he added, nuzzling into your throat.

“Huh?”

He looked up again, smiling. “She said you’d be the bombshell I needed.”

You blinked, not entirely understanding of how to accept that comment. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but you’d always liked to think that you had some sort of control over your own fate. The way Billie made it sound, you may not have had any choice at all. Were you meant to die on that road? To become this new breed of an angel? To be here, with Castiel, Jack and the Winchesters?

A cold fist seized the bottom of your spine and you pulled away. Instantly, Castiel noticed your change in demeanor.

“Y/N,” he started, reaching out to you. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered, shaking like a leaf all over. You needed to get out of the confining space and breathe, away from the scent of him. Castiel frowned, seeing your turmoil strewn across your features, and you couldn’t control the building panic in your chest. Your body flickered and you disappeared from the room, hitting the warding of the bunker, before landing, fully nude, in the middle of the garage.

The concrete bruised your knees where you dropped, and you gasped at the pain the barrier had caused you. You’d thought the warding was to keep you safe, not keep you trapped like some animal.

The sound of the garage door opening made you look up, and instinct had your wings unfurling and covering you from view. Footsteps clattered down the steps and into the room, and when you peeked through your feathers, Sam and Dean were staring at you with confusion on their faces.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, taking one step forward.

“Don’t,” you whimpered, shaking your head.

“Dude,” Dean breathed, grabbing his brother’s arms. “Wings.”

Neither of them had seen an angel’s proper wings before. The thought suddenly occurred to you and shame overtook your panic, like you’d betrayed Castiel in some way. As if on cue, he appeared behind the boys, shoving past them to get to your side. He was fully dressed now, down to the trenchcoat and you shied away.

“Y/N,” he whispered softly, reaching out to you, and you shook your head violently.

“The warding…” you choked out, not wanting him to touch you but at the same time, wanting him to hold you and make everything go away. “I couldn’t get out. You’ve trapped me here.”

Castiel glanced back at the Winchesters, who had the grace to look a little ashamed. His expression showed nothing - you couldn’t tell if he knew or not. But he didn’t explain it, and moved closer, insistent. “Your wings…”

“I’ve got nothing else,” you replied, keeping your voice low as you finally met his eyes. “Make them go away.” You probably could have returned yourself to the bedroom, but right at that moment, you felt exhausted. Cas shrugged his coat off, throwing the brothers a look that made them retreat, leaving you and the other angel alone. “Did you know?” you asked, accepting the coat before allowing your wings to shift back into their non-corporeal form. Clutching the coat around your chest, you waited for him to answer.

“I knew it was a possibility,” he admitted, sighing after he’d spoken. “But I didn’t -”

“It hurt,” you interrupted, tears brimming in your eyes. “I trusted you.”

“Y/N, I didn’t know it would affect you like that. The warding to stop angels from getting to you, but also to stop them from escaping if they manage to get in. I had no idea how it would affect you as an Ishim, as a former human.” He paused, looking at you earnestly as tears started to track down your cheeks. “When it comes to you, I’m guessing.”

The silence between you was weighed down and you felt the fight go out of you. “Cas -”

He caught you before you fell, exhaustion overcoming your entire being. His arms were gentle as he led you back through the bunker to your room, thankfully without any chance meetings with the other occupants. Once the door was shut, you gave in, sobbing for everything you’d given up and everything you stood to gain.

And lose.

“You need rest,” Castiel murmured, removing his coat from your shoulders as you crawled under the sheets. When he slipped in beside you, wearing only his boxers, you didn’t protest, letting him cradle you against his firm chest until you finally fell asleep.

*****

Cas was gone when you woke up. The bedroom door was ajar, light from the corridor spilling into your darkened room. As you sat up, you hissed, looking down at the mass of healing bruises on your torso, that slowly started to fade when you became conscious of them. You’d noticed that the injuries you sustained only disappeared when you were cognitively aware of them and made a note to bring that up with Castiel.

If he was still here.

Swinging your legs around, you grabbed your yoga pants and shirt off of the floor, only to realize that your shirt was shredded. With a disgruntled sound, you stood up, striding across the room to snatch a clean top out of the pile of folded laundry on the dresser. The entire pile tumbled to the floor under your aggressive touch and you stomped your foot in frustration.

“Everything okay in here?” Sam asked, knocking lightly on your door. You quickly dragged your clothes on, just about covering your breasts before his head poked in. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied, flustered and blushing. “I’m good.”

“I’m going to the store. You want anything?”

Reality slammed into you; you couldn’t leave. The smile disappeared from your face and you felt your blood run cold. “Did you know?”

Sam stood straight in the doorway, opening it a little more to accommodate his frame. “We suspected. But we didn’t think it was necessarily a bad thing. I mean, you’re safe here, right?”

“Not the point. Angels can still kill me in here.”

“Actually, we thought about that too. If angels manage to get in, and that’s a big if,” he added, “you’ll be safe if you’re in your room.”

“How? How can the room be safe if they’ve already broken through the warding?” you demanded, placing your hands on your hips.

Sam’s expression softened. “We placed protective warding on this room. Specifically tailored to you. It was hard, and Cas probably wiped himself doing the spells, but as long as you’re in here, you can’t be heard, seen, or touched by anyone who isn’t me, Sam, Dean or -”

“Who are you talking to?” Jack asked, frowning as he paused behind the larger man.

“Y/N,” Sam said, before realization sunk in. “Oh, yeah, we should probably…”

“Okay,” you acknowledged, tipping your head to the side. “That’s good.” You moved to the door, emerging through the door frame and Jack jumped back a little as you materialized out of thin air. He blinked, reaching forward to touch your arm, making sure you were real. “If it works on him, then I’m happy.”

“You were shielded,” Jack whispered, looking a little in awe. “I was not aware angels had that ability.”

Sam chuckled, gesturing to the library. “It’s not an ability, Jack,” he explained. “It’s a spell. Y/N needs to be protected so we’ve… protected her.”

“Why isn’t it around the entire bunker?” you asked, looking back at Sam as you walked towards the library.

“We did not have sufficient power to extend the spell that way,” Castiel provided from where he was leaning against the door frame. “I apologize, we should have told you -”

You waved him off, walking past him to take a seat opposite Dean in the library. Castiel watched you move, raising an eyebrow, and Sam gave him an awkward look. As you landed in your chair, huffing loudly, Dean looked at you and his friend, before clearing his throat, his cheeks flushing red.

“How long was I asleep?” The question wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, but Jack answered.

“Three hours, six minutes and forty-three seconds,” he announced, looking proud of himself. You blinked at the response, ignoring Sam smirking as he moved to occupy another chair. Jack mimicked him, and you found yourself feeling slightly amused at the boy’s obvious adoration.

Dean sat up straight. “What was all that?” he asked, sounding a little hesitant to pose the query.

“I freaked out,” you shrugged. “No big deal.”

“You were naked,” Dean spluttered, not looking at you, and your eyes landed on Castiel, who was glowering with a look you’d never seen before. “And the wings - I knew angels had wings, right, but I thought it was just metaphorical for the teleporting. With shadows for impressive emphasis.”

Cas’ face was almost screwed up now, a scowl affecting his features and turning his eyes darker. You frowned, wondering if it was jealousy he was displayed. Was he upset because someone else had seen your wings?

“I mean, they’re really… beautiful,” Dean continued, seeming a little lost for a word to describe them.

“That’s enough,” Castiel snapped, standing straight, and four sets of eyes joined yours in looking at him in shock. “Y/N was overwhelmed for a moment. You saw her wings. We don’t need to discuss it any further.”

Sam turned his head, directing a suspicious expression at the angel. “Cas, are you jealous?” There was no answer; all Castiel did was tug at his tie, and look embarrassed at his own actions. “Why would it matter if we saw her wings?”

“Because they’re not…” Cas growled, grinding his teeth together and looking off at the ceiling as he struggled for words. “It’s a very personal thing for angels.”

Dean and Sam made equal gestures of understanding, while Jack just looked even more confused. “I can see her wings all the time,” he pointed out, frowning at you, and you blinked, looking at Castiel with worry in your eyes.

“Can you see mine?” Castiel asked, and you leaned forward, wondering if this was a side-effect of being an Ishim, or a general Nephilim thing that no one knew about before now. Jack nodded earnestly, and you could almost feel the relief on Cas’ face. “You never said anything.”

Jack shrugged. “I did not see the need. But it’s interesting. When I first saw you, your wings were pure white, same as hers. Since we have returned, your feathers are almost silver. You’ve changed together.”

Castiel shuddered, and you stood up, suddenly uncomfortable with the situation. “I’m hungry, is anyone else hungry?” you asked, moving away. “No? I’m getting breakfast.”

With an amused look on his face, Sam called out to you. “Y/N/N, it’s four in the afternoon.”

“How the hell would I know? There’s no damn windows in here!” you yelled back.


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re angry with me.”

Castiel’s voice was soft, and it struck you to your very core, distracting you from the laundry you were picking up in your room. A half-eaten sandwich sat on a plate next to the bed, which was still unmade. You didn’t want to change the sheets, or diminish the smell of him, no matter how pissed you were.

“A little,” you admitted, placing one hand on the corner of the dresser and turning to face him. He was silhouetted in the door by the lamplight, casting shadows onto the wall behind him, and your chest tightened at the sight of him. It was like your first high school crush on Grayson Miles, who wouldn’t even give you the time of day. “But I’ll get over it.” 

“The warding is necessary,” Cas started, stepping into the room slowly. “I never meant to upset you -”

“Why were you so angry that Sam and Dean saw my wings?” you blurted out, folding your arms over your chest. “Why is it so personal?”

He sucked in a breath, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. “Angels don’t show their wings to anyone. It’s a long upheld law in heaven. We can cast a shadow, give them form in that regard, but I’ve only ever heard of one angel who showed their true wings to someone.”

You moved, sitting down on the bed, patting the mattress to encourage Castiel to sit next to you. “Tell me.”

“I’m not sure -”

Cutting him off, you gave him a stern look. “Honesty, Cas. I can’t deal with you lying to me. I know, you think you’re protecting me, but if I’m supposed to be an angel, and I’m supposed to change the world, I need to know the truth.” You inhaled deeply, preparing yourself to be honest with him. “I think I’m falling in love with you, and I need to know I can trust you.”

“You can trust me,” he replied, reaching to take your hand. Your fingers slotted easily through his, and that comforting warmth blossomed in your belly, spreading outwards. “But this,” he gestured around the both of you, “this is as new to me as it is to you. Angels, before now, were brother and sister. We didn’t have these kinds of intimate relationships.”

“But I’m not your sister, Castiel. I’m…”

“You’re new. And unknown.” He smiled softly, using his free hand to cup your cheek. “And I’m glad of that because I think I love you too.”

Relief was the least expected of the emotions you were waiting for, and your posture relaxed a little. “Tell me, about the wings.”

Cas nodded, shifting a little closer to you, not relinquishing his hold on your fingers. “Lucifer was not the only son to disobey. Long ago, when God had abandoned us, and my brothers were fighting, Michael left too. He turned his back on Heaven, and his duty as God’s firstborn, and took a vessel. And as the story goes, he fell in love. With a mortal.”

You blinked, unsure of what that meant. You’d read the books and diaries, the Winchesters’ own notes about angels, and how Michael was a dutiful, obedient son, intent on destroying the world because of his Father’s heavenly plan. “He didn’t seem like the type,” you muttered, recalling Dean’s account of his confrontation with the archangel.

“No, he wasn’t. Not at the end.” There was a hint of sadness in Cas’ tone, and you knew he still felt the pain of knowing his brother was locked away and crazier than a box of frogs. “But Michael, he showed his wings to the woman he fell in love with. She was the only person outside of God to ever see them, and Michael knew she was meant for him. His wings changed color, and Raphael was outraged that our brother had turned from the path God set out.”

“But we know that God didn’t really want the end of the world, right?”

Castiel shrugged. “That was neither here nor there a thousand years ago,” he remembered. “None of us knew what our Father really wanted, much less the way he engineered and used us all like puppets. Either way, the woman was murdered by her kinfolk, as an abomination against God, and Michael went mad with grief. He killed entire swathes of people to avenge her death, and it became a crime to have associations with mortals.”

“I thought that was always God’s rule,” you whispered, remembering trying to read the Bible when you were a kid. You’d never really grasped the whole religion thing, but it was kinda nice to know that all the gods were real, even if it was in a different context that you’d imagined.

“No. But Michael was the voice of God. His Firstborn Son. So we obeyed.”

“I’m not a mortal anymore, Cas.”

He smiled a little, shaking his head. “No, you are not, and for that I am glad. I could not bear to live a lifetime and more, only to watch my soulmate die.”

The expression was like a dousing of cold water, and you stared at Cas with uncertainty clouding your mind. Soulmates were a trope reserved for romance films and smutty books with the lewd covers and women swooning over handsome hunks. True love, all of it - you’d never had much faith in those things.

But there was the small matter of the way you felt around Castiel. The way you felt like you could fly without the wings, or the intensity of the need for him that filled your lungs and every other part of you, until you thought you might scream without him. It was almost like your very need to breathe hinged on knowing he was there, safe and with you.

“I don’t -” The anxiety rose to the surface again, and you swallowed, trying to align the way you felt with the words he was saying. “This is big, Cas,” you whispered, hoping that he understood what you meant.

“That is why I was… jealous. Sam and Dean have glimpsed something that I only dreamed of, that I never thought I would see, and they don’t even realize -” He seemed agitated and you cut him off by placing a finger over his lips.

“You said it yourself that we don’t know what I’m capable of. This is probably one of those things. I mean, Jack can see them too.”

He nodded, taking your hand away from his mouth. “That I do not understand. Maybe because he is the son of an archangel…” He trailed off, his musings becoming internal. “Either way, I hope you’re not angry at me any longer. I only want to protect you, Y/N.”

You smiled, squeezing his hands where they held yours. “I understand why you did it. Just… don’t lie to me again. I’m capable of fighting with you, Castiel. If this is what I’m here for, then I can’t be afraid and wrapped up in cotton wool.” Castiel nodded, leaning in close to you, brushing his lips against yours. You opened to him willingly, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

“I promise I will never hold the truth back from you again,” he vowed, pressing his forehead against yours. Your chest warmed, and you closed your eyes, the doubts silently retreating to the back of your mind. No matter what, the connection with him felt right like you belonged.

It was the first time in your life that you’d ever felt that way.

*****

Sam hadn’t come back. It had been four hours, and he wasn’t answering his phone, which left Dean in a state of panic. By the time he’d tried to call his brother numerous times, and sent twenty unanswered texts, he was already grabbing his favorite gun and heading for the door.

“Dean, it’s not safe,” Castiel protested, shaking his head. “If they have Sam -”

“If they have Sam, I’m going to go and get him back,” Dean replied, ignoring his friend’s worried tone. “He shouldn’t have gone alone in the first place.” Dean had only stayed back because Sam was confident he would fine - he was only going to the store after all. “I’ll be fine.”

“He can’t go alone,” you pleaded, tugging on Castiel’s sleeve.

“And I cannot leave. The warding keeps me in here as much as it does you,” the seraph replied, running a hand down your shoulder. “The angels will not kill Sam; he is far more valuable alive to them.”

“They probably need him to break the warding,” Jack offered, sounding pleased to have a helpful suggestion, even though it made Dean’s shoulders tense and his glowering expression increase tenfold. “Maybe I should go.”

“No,” Dean barked, pointing at the Nephilim. “You are the last person I should take with me. Angels want you as much as they want her.”

You reeled back, offended. “And I’m standing right here.” Glancing at Castiel, you sighed, putting your hands on your hips. “There’s only one way to settle this. Break the warding. We all go.” Both Cas and Dean went to protest, but you held up a hand, silencing them. “This needs to happen. The angels aren’t ever gonna stop coming after us. Jack, me and Cas - we should be more than a match for them, right?”

Castiel looked doubtful, and Dean slammed his fist down on the map table, making it shudder with the impact. “Goddamn, how many times have I gotta say no? The point of this is to protect you and him,” Dean gestured to both of you, his cheeks puffed out with his anger.

“And you’re not going to be able to protect us if Sam and you are dead, Dean!” you shouted back, feeling your own ire grow. “Jack is a powerful Nephilim. I’m an entirely new type of angel, and I think that the hole in the training room attests to my strength. And Cas has more battle experience than all of us combined!”

Dean paused, contemplating the idea, but you could see his resolve hardening. Before he could denounce the plan again you approached him, poking his shoulder hard, and he winced, grabbing the spot.

“Tell me I’m not wrong, Dean. Tell me that the safest option is you going up against a bunch of angels alone and getting just as caught as your brother is.” An overwhelming silence filled the room as Dean met your eyes and saw the steely gaze you fixed on him. Reluctantly, his shoulders sagged and he nodded.

“Fine. But you follow my lead, and if I tell you to hang back -”

You shrugged. “I can do that. Jack too.” The young man opposite you nodded in affirmation. “We know you’re the expert hunter here, Dean. But we’ve got the ass-kicking that you need to save Sam.”

Dean chuckled, looking past you to Castiel, who was looking more than a little proud of you. “Okay, I give. She’s all Winchester, bud.”


	9. Chapter 9

Finding Sam wasn’t as difficult as you had assumed it was going to be.

The angels had already found the bunker.

The wardings lit up at their arrival, and you felt the ground shake. “They’re attempting to break the warding,” Castiel warned, heading for the stairs, his angel blade dropping from his sleeve into his hand. “Stay there!”

“Oh, to hell with that,” you shouted, “we just discussed this!” Picking up the sharpest knife on the table, you ran off after the other angel, Dean and Jack hot on your tail. As you ran, you saw the wardings start to melt on the walls, where they had previously been invisible.

Castiel was at the exit, the door flung open to show five angels knelt with one knee bent. They were in a semi-circle, their angel blades digging into the dirt underneath them, the other hand slamming down onto the floor. You felt the wards bend and give a little more, and you knew they’d get through.

Sam was on the floor behind the angels, unconscious. Dean shoved past you, sprinting through the door, and you shrieked, knowing the angels could kill him in a heartbeat. But none of them moved, too intent on their work to bother with one human.

“Sam!” Dean yelled, skidding into the dirt next to his brother, checking him over. Sam stirred and you wilted in relief. The ground shook again, and the wards disintegrated a little more.

“We don’t have long,” Cas said, quietly, noticing Jack draw closer to you. His hand landed on your shoulder, and you glanced back, frowning at him. “Jack, what are you doing -”

“It’s okay,” Jack assured him. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Jack, don’t -” you reached for him, only to find your grasp blocked by the still-present wardings. Jack had walked right through, not even pausing at the invisible barrier. “Castiel!”

The angels brought their hands down again, all of them looking up at Jack. He smiled in that innocent way of his, dimples and all, and spread his arms. “Hi. I’m Jack.” One angel sprang to his feet, rushing the Nephilim and you screamed when the angel blade pierced his stomach. Castiel held you close against his chest, and you burst into tears as Jack turned around, blood staining his shirt where the angel blade was stuck in his gut. Slowly, his hand curled around the blade and he drew it free.

“The blades can’t hurt him,” Castiel said quietly, his fingers tightening around you. The angel staggered back from Jack, who reached out and flung the angel away with a strange yellow aura. “They will break with the next blow.”

You looked up, unsure what he meant, when the angels brought their hands down again and the wardings broke entirely, and the world opened up to you. Throwing yourself forward, you came to stand next to Jack, looking at the five angels starting to surround you.

“Brothers,” Cas called, stepping out behind you, “sisters! Please, stop this.”

The tallest of the five, a woman with fair skin and even fairer hair, fixed her blue gaze on him, regarding him like one would regard a small bug. “Castiel. You are no longer involved in this affair. These creatures are impure, abominations.”

“She can save our whole species!” Castiel snapped, gesturing to you and Jack, who nudged your arm and winked. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

Blondie glared at him even harder, if that was possible, and then looked at you, looking you up and down with disdain. “Impure,” she repeated, quietly. “Such a thing should never have been created.”

“Hey,” you scowled. “I’m a person, not freakin’ Frankenstein’s monster, Gwyneth.”

Her thin eyebrow arched at your outburst, and you thought you saw the corner of her mouth twitch. “And that is the problem. Humans and angels should be separate. You are not worthy of the power given to you, nor the mate that has claimed you.”

You instantly looked to Castiel, who remained stoic, not returning your gaze. Somehow, the news didn’t surprise you, and you smiled at him for a split second, then turned your attention back to the blonde angel. “Why am I not worthy? Who decided you were?”

“God, you insect!” she spat in response, taking a step forward. Dean looked up, Sam awake and alert beside him, and you waited for the blow, wincing in anticipation.

A cold wind swept up around you, and the very air seemed to freeze in its wake. You stopped wincing, opening your eyes fully to see the angel in front of you looking just as bewildered as you felt. Dean and Sam were still, locked in a second in time as you heard footsteps approaching.

“I told you to leave it alone,” Billie drawled, taking long, exaggerated steps towards you. Her elegant fingers were wrapped around the wooden staff of her scythe and the other angels gave her a wide berth as she came to a stop in front of Blondie. “In fact, I believe we spoke at great length about the subject.”

“Billie, we never…”

The tall woman snapped her fingers and Blondie shut up instantly. “I would loathe to kill more of an already dying species,” she started, looking casually murderous. “But they do say “survival of the fittest”.” Her lips twisted upwards and with a wave of her hand, Blondie disintegrated. Billie looked around at the other angels expectantly. “Any other oppositions?”

The remaining angels shook their heads, and one by one, they flew away. Silence fell over you for a moment, before you frowned at Billie, tilting your head to the side.

“That’s it?”

Billie smiled widely, reaching out to touch your cheek. “Darling, I’m Death. The closest thing they have to a superior. I’d thought that Tabbris would have taken the hint,” she paused, looking down at the slightly singed patch of earth where the blond angel had stood, “but obviously not.”

“Billie,” Castiel started, earning himself a glare. “Thank you -”

“I didn’t do it for you, Castiel,” she interrupted, not taking her eyes off of you. “I don’t enjoy killing other angels, but when needs must - Tabbris was not going to give up until your Y/N was dead. And she is far too precious to our survival to risk.” Billie looked over her shoulder where Dean remained frozen alongside his brother. “Remind Dean of that.”

You frowned, unsure what she meant. “Billie, Oro is gone, we don’t -”

“Oro was only the first step,” she said, coming even closer to you, crowding into your space, but you weren’t stupid enough to say anything. “It’s a shame he died, but his work was complete. We can replenish the garrisons, and restore the angels to what they were.” Her eyes went beyond you to Cas and Jack, her smile soft. “But your part in this is over. You had a different path to travel.”

“You’re reorganizing,” Castiel breathed. “You’re putting the angels back in line.”

“It needs to be done. I’m not going to change any of the progress you’ve encouraged in them, Castiel,” Billie assured him, tipping her head down a little in acknowledgment. “But angels, like all things, must evolve to survive.” Her eyes moved back to yours, and she placed one hand on your shoulder, her smile growing. “And you’ve taken the first step.”

She moved away, her attention turning to Jack, who watched her with wide, curious eyes. “Hello, I’m Jack,” he offered, holding out his hand.

“Hmmm,” Billie murmured, inspecting him for a moment before taking his hand and shaking it. “I was unsure about you, boy. But I see the goodness in you. Lucifer would never mold you into his shape when you already hold so much of your mother.” Her expression turned kind. “She is at peace. And she is very proud of you.”

Jack’s cheeks turned crimson, and tears welled in his eyes, and you felt your own chest tighten at his obvious happiness. Billie moved on, almost like she was going to disregard Castiel altogether before she looked back as an afterthought.

“You’ve got a hard road ahead of you, Castiel. It’s a good thing you don’t really need to sleep.” The mirth on her face was brief, and then she clicked her fingers, disappearing, and restoring the world to its normal setting. Dean fell forward, just as Sam pulled his gun out, both of them looking around in confusion.

“What happened?” Dean asked, glancing at Sam, who shrugged.

“Billie,” you muttered, looking back at Cas, who stepped closer, pulling you into his arms. You hummed contentedly into his neck, inhaling his scent. Sam looked at Jack, who shrugged, before turning back to the bunker. “It’s over,” you whispered, and Castiel nodded, stroking your shoulder, where your wings would be if they were corporeal.

“It’s over,” he affirmed, kissing your temple.


	10. Chapter 10

“I want to stay here,” you said suddenly, your voice a little funny from where your cheek was smooshed against Cas’ bare chest. He looked down at you, arching his neck at an awkward angle. “Not permanently, because y’know, I can go outside now. But I wanna help people, and I wanna help Sam and Dean.”

He smiled, cuddling against you more, a sigh lifting his chest. “I don’t think I’ve felt happiness quite like this before.”

“What that angel said, about… the mate thing,” you said, feeling a bit silly about saying it aloud. “Is that… like…”

“I am yours, and you are mine,” Castiel explained as if it was the most simple thing in the entire world. “I will dedicate my existence to keeping you safe.”

“Well, you don’t need to go that far,” you gushed, and he chuckled, rolling you onto your back to kiss you breathless. It had only been twenty minutes since your last go, but Cas was hard against your thigh again, and you groaned into his mouth. “Cas…”

He nudged your legs apart with one knee, supporting his weight with his arms as he covered your body with his own. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, almost innocently batting his eyelashes at you.

“Never,” you announced, pulling him down to kiss him as he slid home, filling you to the brim. You cried out, breaking from his lips, and he groaned as your body tightened around him. “Cas!” He rolled his hips leisurely, dragging you higher and higher, before letting you fall again, and you instinctively raised your legs to wrap them around his waist. The move gave him a deeper angle and he grunted, burying his face in your breasts.

You came with little prompting, still sensitive from the first few rounds, and Cas lost control too easily. He was panting heavily when he looked up at you, a shy smile on his lips. “I was hoping it would last longer than that.”

“No offense,” you rasped, “but I could use a better break than that.”

Castiel rolled off of you, slinging an arm behind his head to watch you climb from the bed and sashay across the room, completely nude. “I’m beginning to understand Dean’s appreciation of the female form,” he drawled, pulling the sheets up to cover his ebbing erection. “You are beautiful.”

You swore you could feel your blush in your asscheeks as you swiped your bathrobe from the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He chuckled and nodded, not taking his eyes off of you as you opened the door and walked out into the corridor.

“Finally come up for air, huh?” Sam asked as you entered the kitchen. “I think you’re making Dean jealous.”

“Jealous?” you tutted. “I’m afraid Cas is all mine.”

Sam pulled a face. “I meant… nevermind. Hey, you hungry? I made tacos.”

You screwed up your face, shaking your head and heading straight for the fridge. Sam watched in amazement as you grabbed the jug of milk, holding it up and drinking the entire lot down in one go. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you glanced at him, lifting your shoulders. “What?”

“Thirsty?” he asked, and you looked at the empty jug.

“What? There’s more.” You put the empty jug on the side, closing the fridge door. “I like milk.”

“So I noticed,” Sam commented, turning back to his tacos. “Well, if you’re hungry, I’ll leave some for you.” Humming thanks, you waltzed out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom. Castiel was still lounging on the bed, and you slipped the robe off, climbing back in beside him.

“Do you think that maybe, at some point, we should consider getting out of bed?” you asked, and Cas rolled his head to look at you, a dubious expression on his face. “Nah, I didn’t think so either.”

*****

Life as an angel was definitely full of surprises. From Lucifer himself to other worlds and dreamwalkers, the past six months had been a madhouse. Now, it was finally settling down, and you had finally started to act on your intention of helping people who needed it most.

Castiel showed you things you never imagined you would see. The Grand Canyon, Big Ben, Mount Everest (this time with clothes on and not by accident), and the plains of Africa, with wild animals you’d only ever seen in cages. Along the way, you practiced your powers, performing small acts of kindness and miracles that made you feel like you’d definitely made the right decision to enter this life.

Although you suspected you’d been sure of that since the moment you’d done it. Castiel, your friendship with the Winchesters and the sort of sibling relationship you’d struck up with them and Jack - everything was perfect.

There was always something to try and challenge you. Demons, creatures you’d never thought existed, they were always a threat. Rogue angels who still believe what Tabriss had spread, and those intending to try and harness Jack’s power for their own. But you persevered, with the help of the mismatched little family you’d died and fallen into.

One particularly heated incident served to remind you that neither you or Cas knew the extent of your abilities. A small group of loyalist angels had attacked you in Maryland, where you were helping Sam and Dean with a case. They’d gone for Castiel first, believing that he’d be the best fighter, the one with the most power.

Their underestimation of you had worked in your favor, because the second you realized that he was at risk, your instinct had kicked in and one angel was dead on the floor before they could react. You dispatched two more, freeing Cas, and he’d taken on his own target.

When you’d killed the last angel, turning to assist him, his assailant was a hair’s breadth from slamming his blade through Castiel’s rib-cage and into his heart.

It took a few seconds to understand it was your own scream of rage you were hearing, and the angel froze, his frightened gaze sliding your way. You hoisted your blade in your hand and tossed it, nailing him through the neck, and his body lit up with dying embers.

“That was... intense,” you puffed, as Cas watched you from across the way, shock on his features. “Good shot though, right?”

“Remind me not to piss her off,” Dean called from the open window of the Impala as they drove up. “Are these guys going to give up? I mean, you’re trying to stop them dying out, right?”

You chuckled mirthlessly, reaching out to take Castiel’s hand in your own, and he smiled at you. “Hunt done?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, leaning over his brother to look out of the window. “You guys coming back to the bunker?”

“No,” Cas answered, keeping his eyes on you. “We will soon, but not today.”

“Okay then,” Dean slammed his hand against Baby’s paintwork, grinning widely. “Stay out of trouble, kids.”

*****

Returning to the bunker just in time for your first Christmas as an angel, you were surprised when on Christmas Eve, you woke up and instantly threw up the small meal you’d eaten hours ago. Castiel was concerned but wasn’t able to contact Billie, and he couldn’t see what was wrong with you. For three days, you slept, ate and threw up, and Cas’ panic rose with every minute.

Jack was the one who provided the answer.

You had been dozing, finally feeling a little better when the Nephilim entered your room with a soft knock. Sitting up, you welcomed him in, and he sat beside the bed, smiling at you awkwardly. He was still getting to grips with being what he was, but he’d come a long way in the months he’d been alive. It was weird to think that only a year before, this boy hadn’t existed.

“Castiel is worried about you,” he whispered like it was a secret, and you grinned.

“Cas is always worried about me,” you pointed out. “I’ve probably just caught the flu. We don’t know that my immune system is fully angel.”

Jack’s eyebrows knit together for a second. “Would you mind if I tried to heal you?” he asked.

“Cas already tried,” you replied. “He couldn’t see anything wrong.”

“Please?”

His eyes were so earnest and worried, that you relented with a nod, watching him reach over the bed towards you. He closed them, focusing on you as soon as his skin came into contact with yours. At that moment, Castiel walked in, his expression shifting to panic as he saw Jack’s hand resting on your belly.

He rushed forward, fingers outstretched to grab him back. “Jack -”

“She’s not sick,” the boy said, not moving, and Cas stumbled, clinging to the bed as he tried to right himself. “She’s beautiful,” Jack murmured, a smile on his face. “Wow. I’ve never seen anything so amazing.” Cas looked reasonably pale as you frowned at Jack, and the Nephilim opened his eyes to look at you. “She wants you to know that she’s okay and strong.”

“I’m…”

“A girl,” Jack nodded, his face lit up with excitement, his hand still on your belly. “She’s growing so fast, that’s why you’re getting sick.”

Castiel crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees, but the concern was still on his face as his hands hovered over Jack’s. “Is she…”

The boy looked up. “I’m pretty sure she’s an angel.”

*****

It was late August when the weird things started happening around the world. And you’d known that it was close. Fantastically wonderful stories flooded the media as a screaming baby girl with a head full of thick black hair made her way into your world.

Dean and Sam waited in the library of the bunker, worry creasing both their brows as they listened out for anything at all from down the corridor. The news played in the background, and Sam sat up at the announcement that there were no longer any endangered species, and the world was united in fighting the environmental disasters around the globe. “Huh,” he muttered, looking over at Dean. “Guess she really is gonna save the world.”

A tiny angry screech reached their ears, growing closer and closer, until Castiel appeared around the corner, smiling wider than they’d ever seen, a white-blanketed bundle in his arms.

The brothers approached slowly, both of them staring at the tiny fist that emerged. “How’s Y/N?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow as Dean practically melted when confronted with the newborn girl.

“She’s resting,” the angel replied, looking down at his newborn daughter.

“Did you pick a name?” Dean cooed, letting his huge finger get trapped in the softness of the baby’s grip.

Castiel nodded, bouncing his arms a little, and the infant yawned, her bright blue eyes fluttering shut. “Micah,” Cas murmured, leaning down to kiss the tiny girl’s head. “Angel of miracles.”


End file.
